


Hit Me Up

by misura



Category: Justified
Genre: Fake/Pretend Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-23
Updated: 2013-12-23
Packaged: 2018-01-05 18:26:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1097216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misura/pseuds/misura
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Rachel," Raylan said, and Tim sat up a little bit straighter, the better to slump back to express his lack of interest later. "I tell you me and Tim are getting up, close and naked together, you'd have something you want to say to that?"</p><p>"Just that I'd have expected him to have better taste, and that I think he's too good for you," Rachel said, not even looking up or back or any which way aside from at her computer screen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hit Me Up

**Author's Note:**

  * For [shrift](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shrift/gifts).



> this treat was an utter blast to write and I hope you'll have fun reading it, too.
> 
> <3

Tim'd been a sniper for long enough to pick up some habits - good ones and bad ones, both, and some that were in between, depending. For one, he'd become quite patient, which was fine. Meant he didn't act all hasty, getting into things over his head.

Meant that by the time he'd finished deciding what to do about some drunk idiot calling him a faggot, Raylan'd already gotten up to beat the shit out of the guy.

 

"I got that, you know."

Raylan shrugged. He'd given a bit better than he'd took, but Art was probably going to know how much of the story to believe, come morning, just by looking at his face. "Never crossed my mind that you didn't."

"Yeah," Tim said, pushing. "So I don't need you pulling that sort of shit on me, all right? Like you think you need to defend my honor or something."

"Well, shit." Raylan gave him his best wide-eyed and stupid bullshit look. "You mean it wasn't me he was talking about?"

"You're not gay."

"I could be - what's that word they're using again, for when you don't care whether it's a man or a woman? Bisexual."

"You're not bisexual, either."

"You been doing some investigating in that area you maybe want to tell me about?" Raylan asked, voice more amused than anything, like the whole matter of sexuality was just one mildly entertaining joke to him. "Anyway, whomever he was talking about, it wasn't polite. You wanted to show him what's what yourself, you got to be a bit quicker next time."

Tim considered arguing the point. It was late, though, and they both had work in the morning. "No investigation, just a fishing expedition."

"Hm-mm. Caught anything interesting?"

"I'll let you know in the morning?"

Raylan chuckled, which was probably more than that particular joke deserved.

 

"Rachel," Raylan said, and Tim sat up a little bit straighter, the better to slump back to express his lack of interest later. "I tell you me and Tim are getting up, close and naked together, you'd have something you want to say to that?"

Art was in his office, so probably safely out of earshot.

"Just that I'd have expected him to have better taste, and that I think he's too good for you," Rachel said, not even looking up or back or any which way aside from at her computer screen.

Raylan took off his hat and twirled it idly. "The him in that sentence being?"

She turned and fixed him with a stare that'd brought better men to their knees, crying for their momma (and worse ones, too, most likely). "You got something you want to say, spit it out."

"I'm good, thanks."

"You were drunk," Tim said, picking up a file and leafing through it. "It doesn't mean anything when you're drunk. Ask any straight guy."

"Oh, now you're just trying to hurt my feelings," Raylan said.

"Is it working?"

"Little bit."

"Good," Tim says, which would have made a nice closing line, he felt, except that by now, Art's tingly spidey senses had apparently lured him out of his office.

"Something going on that I should know about?"

"Nothing much," Raylan said, not elaborating.

"Just Raylan coming out of the closet after sleeping with Tim," Rachel said, kindly doing it for him.

"Good Lord." Art looked genuinely shocked for all of two seconds.

"Drunk," Tim said, almost but not entirely convinced that Art did, in fact, know this wasn't serious. "Him and me, both."

"Right." Art turned to Raylan. "For a moment there, I thought you were actually getting sensible about who you sleep with. That'll be the day, huh?"

Raylan inclined his head, expression as bland as it ever got. "That'll be the day."

"Yeah." Art frowned slightly in a way that made Tim double-check that he was, in fact, holding his file the right way up. "You should get drunk with him more often. Save us all a lot of trouble. Unless, of course, he was a bad lay. I've heard alcohol gets some people that way, making them go all, you know. Limp."

"He was all right," Tim said. "For a first-timer."

"Practice makes perfect, huh?"

"Don't it always?" Raylan asked, just to get in the last word, likely as not.

 

Lexington wasn't Harlan; it wasn't as if everyone knew Raylan'd supposedly gotten drunk and had sex with another guy in a single day.

(Tim was a known quantity; he'd been labeled a long time ago, stamped as 'boring' and 'too hard to get a rise out of to make it worth your while'. He still hadn't quite worked out if that was a good thing or not, that people apparently didn't feel as bothered by stuff when they weren't able to get you to be bothered by the fact that they were.)

(Raylan was different, though; from around here, and somewhat notorious for his temper. Meant that in half a day, all of Lexington's heard of a shiny new button they'd all probably be better off not pushing, but were going to, of course, human nature being what it was.)

 

"Surprised to see you here."

Raylan put his hat down on the bar. "Why?"

"No reason," Tim said, because two could play this game.

"Well, I guess maybe I'm after a bit of a better review than just an 'all right'. Call it my male pride talking, if you wish."

Tim snorted. "It _is_ your male pride talking."

"No harm in calling a thing what it is now, is there?"

"You going to buy me a drink?"

"Well," Raylan said. "I confess I'm not real familiar with the finer points of etiquette in this situation, but wouldn't me buying you a drink imply you to be the woman in this relationship?"

"No. You buying me a drink would imply you appreciate my company enough to spend a few dollars."

"Huh. All right, fair enough. So what you're saying is, I should just slip the bar tender a hundred or something? Just to, you know, fully express my appreciation? Because, not to seem stingy, but that does sound like it might get a bit expensive in the long run."

"We take turns buying."

"You mean, like regular guys? Shit, and here I was thinking we'd have to act all different now that we're a couple."

Tim sipped his drink. It was nowhere near strong enough. "That only comes after the wedding."

"Got you. Well, that's a load off my mind, I don't mind admitting."

 

"Turned you down flat, didn't she?" Art sounded as gleeful as a kid on Christmas morning. "You used all of your charms, but she wouldn't have none of them."

"I just talked to her, Art. No charms involved."

"No, no, don't try and spoil this moment for me."

"Maybe it's time for you guys to break up," Rachel said.

"Now what earthly reason could anyone have for breaking up with me?" Raylan asked.

"Aside from the fact that you're you, you mean?" Art - not Rachel. "Gee, Raylan, I don't know. You sure you want to keep trying to make an honest man out of him?" That last bit to Tim, not Raylan.

"Hope springs eternal."

"Huh. Must be true love, eh?"

 

"Am I cramping your style any?" There was a small frown on Raylan's face, as if the question had actually been preying on his mind for a good bit.

"I'd think it would sooner be the opposite," Tim said.

Raylan sipped his beer. "Naw. I mean, that's only logical, right? Women see me with you, they think we're just friends. At worst, if they hear the rumor, they just think I'm confused. Reckon it ain't the same for you. I mean, someone sees us together, they're going to - what? Wait for me to go take a piss before making a move? Hit on you while I'm sitting right next to you?"

"Maybe I'm usually the one making a move on _them_."

"Could be. Could be. Is it?"

Tim grinned. "Only one way you're ever going to find out."

"And here I was thinking we'd gone past that stage of our relationship. My mistake."

"Your loss, too."

"I don't doubt it."

"You ever even so much as kissed another guy?" Tim asked, because if Raylan could ask a genuine question, then he felt he should be allowed to, as well.

"Can't say I ever felt the inclination. Sorry."

"Right." Tim wasn't sure what Raylan was apologizing for, exactly.

"Not 'til I met you, anyway. Probably helped that I was married most of the time, before - first to the job, then to Winona. Didn't end well."

"That's some self-control you've got there."

Raylan looked like he'd never quite considered it in that light. "Suppose I do. Tell Art, won't you?"

"I would, if I thought he'd believe me."

"Well, don't think your credibility's compromised any. Yet."

"Yet. You planned on changing that?"

"Takes two to tango, doesn't it? You feel like coming over to my place, doing a bit of dancing?"

"Do I look like I've got anything better to do?"

Raylan picked up his hat from the bar. "A simple 'yes' would have sufficed."


End file.
